


It's This Or Cluedo

by 14sherlockianwhovianpotterhead14



Series: Sherlock One Shots [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cluedo, Gen, Hounds of Baskerville, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14sherlockianwhovianpotterhead14/pseuds/14sherlockianwhovianpotterhead14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock was bored; again.  John just wanted some peace and quiet - but it seemed that the only way to do that was to entertain Sherlock for a bit first.  </p><p>"Harry gave me this game," John commented, strolling into the room.  "It's called Cluedo.  It's a detective game," he relished the look of curiosity that burned in Sherlock's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's This Or Cluedo

"I'm bored, John," Sherlock drawled.

It was about two months since the Adler case had been stood down, and since then, all of the cases that were brought to Sherlock's attention were a little dull. Easily solved. Sherlock grew restless quickly, and started to solve cases just for the sake of doing it - even the really simple ones. As he solved simple cases, he grew more and more irritated, until one day, he finally gave up and just stopped taking them from Lestrade, and returned to his laboratory to perform more experiments.

That Tuesday afternoon was different. Sherlock surfaced from his room earlier than usual - about four o'clock in the afternoon. John had the day off, and in the morning he'd been out with Lestrade, who also had the day off. Now, the former army doctor sat in his familiar armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"It's nice to see you too," John muttered, under his breath. "Done with your experiments, then?" he questioned, arching his eyebrows as he watched his flatmate.

Sherlock flounced across the room to his armchair and sank down into it, bringing his knees to his chin and frowning at nothing. He only wore his purple silk dressing gown and a pair of pyjamas to match.

"They were just for entertainment. They didn't show me anything I don't already know," Sherlock frowned. "I need a case," he said, and he sounded serious rather than whiny as he normally did.

John felt sympathetic for his friend. Although he couldn't deduce people in the way that Sherlock could, he could relate to how the normality of everyday life would grate on him.

"There's nothing new," John replied.

"Have you spoken to Lestrade?"

"Nothing that would interest you," John said.

Sherlock made a loud sound of annoyance and folded his arms over his knees.

John watched as his flatmate twitched quietly. "Maybe you could go out..."

"What, again?" Sherlock snapped. "I've already deduced the lives of far too many irrelevant people, I even brought Lestrade a drug lord in the process. Most people are too dull to be worth the effort," he scowled.

"Well, what about..."

"No," Sherlock said. "I need Moriarty."

"Moriarty's been quiet for ages now, and we probably don't really need him rearing his head. It'll probably turn out that your brother's got him under maintenance. Have you spoken to Mycroft?" John added the last sentence as an afterthought.

Sherlock laughed; it was a bitter sound. "What would Mycroft do? Give me a job working for the British Government?" Sherlock scowled.

"Good point," John relented. The former army doctor then stood and went into the kitchen. Sherlock watched him go with quiet confusion.

"John, what are you doing?" Sherlock questioned.

"Hang on."

After a moment of silence, John re-entered the room, this time holding something in one hand. It was a game, from what Sherlock could see, packaged into a black, unopened box. Sherlock's eyebrows raised as he looked at the box, and he opened his mouth to shoot down whatever idea John may have had.

"John, I don't-"

"This," John said, "is Cluedo."

"What's 'Cluedo'?" questioned Sherlock, his curiosity betraying him.

"It's a mystery game. With a suspect. And a murder victim. And the aim of the game is to find out who is the murderer," John explained.

Sherlock shuffled forwards, leaning over, interested. Privately, John thought that he looked similar to a small, curious child in that instance, but he didn't voice his thought.

"Pick your piece," John said, unwrapping the box.

* * *

"It's him!  Professor Plum!" Sherlock shouted in irritation.  He was striding up and down 221B quickly, pulling at his hair in irritation.  

"It can't be!" John argued.  

"Why not?" 

"Because it's not possible for the victim to have killed himself!" John said, also aggravated.  

"Why not?" Sherlock repeated.  "All of the evidence is there - and the absence of a weapon speaks volume, John!" 

"It's not in the rules!" 

"Then the rules are wrong!" 

The two glared at one another for a moment.  John pressed his fingers to the side of his head in quiet irritation.  

"Maybe we should restart the game," John said after a moment.  

"But it was the victim!  It was suicide!" 

"Sherlock," John said impatiently.  

"John," Sherlock replied, his tone matching his flatemates exactly.  

John let out a heavy sigh.  Perhaps it was a mistake to bring out Cluedo, after all.  


End file.
